HUNGRY GERALD

The late, great Marcella Hazan is gone, sadly. She was the ultimate authority on Italian cuisine. Thankfully, her cookbooks live on. She had a recipe for chickpea soup that’s guaranteed to warm body and soul on winter nights (suggest you Google the recipe). Marcella often said that a recipe was “a suggestion”. It was up to the cook to make it personal and original. BSK made the chickpea soup last night and it was fabulous. HG saw BSK add canned San Marzano tomatoes to two cans of Goya Garbanzos, plus chopped onions, garlic, chicken broth—and what else? What made it inimitable? BSK cooked it and turned into a puree with deft use of an immersion blender. HG topped a steaming bowl with a splash of olive oil and a sprinkle of hot sauce. Happiness!! Marcella was a very good cook. HG/BSK lunched on splendid zuppa di pesce at the Hazan apartment in Venice. BSK accompanied Marcella on the fish buying at the Rialto market (BSK was allergic to shrimp at the time and Marcella was affronted by this). Victor Hazan, Marcella’s husband, was a wine authority and the luncheon wines were perfect. As for Marcella, she drank bourbon whiskey (this didn’t please Victor).

BSK is a wise, thrifty food shopper – BSK’s/HG’s freezer is always packed with delights for the days (or weeks given the travails of Covid 19) that a visit to the market is not in the cards. (Please note, she always uses fresh vegetables and herbs, of course). BSK often mines the freezer for the tasty dinners BSK cooks every night in sunny (but chilly) New Mexico. Recently, HG saw frozen haddock and sea scallops thawing on the kitchen island. HG was bemused. Typically, BSK doesn’t like frozen seafood as she feels the process renders sea creatures tasteless. To avert this BSK put the chopped haddock and scallops in the food processor with olive oil, scallions, garlic, cilantro, parsley, beaten eggs, potato starch, and a bit of panko. Formed the mix into modest sized balls. Poached them in dashi and clam broth. Augmented the steaming bowl with broad rice noodles, sesame oil, and chili oil. BSK transported HG to Asian heaven.

The Mayor of New York City during HG’s elementary school days in The Bronx was the colorful Fiorello H. LaGuardia, known affectionately as “The Little Flower.” Mayor LaGuardia awarded young HG with a history book and kind words of praise when HG won second prize in the city’s “Americana Quiz Contest” broadcast on radio station WNYC. Sunday mornings, HG would sit in front of the family Philco and listen to the Mayor read and describe that day’s newspaper comics. The Mayor often mentioned that he would be dining later in the day and sharing his favorite dish: Pastafazoole.
This is a robust, thick soup of beans, pasta, vegetables, olive oil, garlic, chicken stock, parsley, etc., topped with plenty of parmesan cheese and red pepper flakes. (“Pasta e fagioli” means pasta and beans so “pastafazoole’ must spring from dialect). Anyway, no matter what you call it, BSK made the soup/stew last night and HG was overjoyed. HG’s glass was filled with tasty Nero d’Avola red wine and HG toasted the memory of “The Little Flower.”

No snow yet but days and nights in New Mexico are getting colder. Brrr!!! So it’s time for comforting and warming dinners. And, that’s what BSK provides with consistency. One night there was a lusty eggplant-zucchini-onion-tomato curry adapted from a recipe by Vikram Vij, the eminent Vancouver, B.C. restaurateur. HG added some chili oil for heat ; added a dollop of yogurt sprinkled with cayenne pepper for more fire (Yes, HG is a big fan of fiery food in cold weather)). The next night there was a steaming pot of cod-fresh clams-potatoes-onions-herbs seafood soup. (HG added many grinds of the pepper mill). When temperatures plunge, BSK knows how to warm HG’s body and soul. Lucky HG.

Georgia U. made HG very happy as the ferocious Dawg Defense throttled Alabama and won the National College Football Association Championship by a 33-18 score. (Quarterback Stetson Bennett also contributed to the win). The Freeman family has had a long, affectionate relationship with Georgia. HG’s late cousin, Dr. Gustave Freeman faced certain discrimination from Ivy League schools who had limited admission policies for Jewish applicants; thus, Gustave graduated from Georgia in the mid-1920’s – he was a college boxing champion and later a noted cancer researcher, first to link smoking with the disease. HG’ s late elder brother, Bernard, graduated in the 1930’s (he was a freshman football star known as “The Russian Bull”; his athletic career ended due to a tragic plane accident; he lived but lost most of his right leg). His son, the late financial /real estate luminary, Paul, went to Georgia as did Paul’s sisters. More family followed. So, the Dawgs and the Freemans go back almost 100 years. After high school HG visited the Georgia campus but found racial segregation horrifying (‘WHITE” and “COLORED” signs everywhere). HG was also shocked by seeing a chain gang working on a highway. African-American prisoners in stripes, chained together; sweltering in the summer heat; overseen by a rifle toting white officer. Seared in HG’s memory. HG matriculated at New York’s CCNY, where leftist intellectuals would battle against any type of discrimination except merit. While watching the many African-American grid warriors on the Dawgs-Crimson Tide teams, HG mused that college (and pro) football had become a much better and more exciting game once Black people began to play a major (often dominant) role.  Blacks, of course, transformed basketball into a spectacle.

With Lesley, Massimo and Arianna R. joining BSK in the kitchen, culinary wonders dazzled HG/BSK’s wondrous family gathered in New Mexico to celebrate the holiday season. The Christmas tree sparkled. Fireplace wood fire flames danced. Pets Toby, The Wonder Dog; Pip (the brilliant Riva lady dog); Mintern (Arianna’s feline buddy) played. And, the humans? They ate and drank with gusto. Lesley made her incomparable polenta topped with a wild mushroom ragout. (BSK gave HG a breakfast treat of warmed polenta with a perfect poached egg). Lesley and BSK collaborated on lusty seafood stews plus a New Mexico green chile chicken extravaganza. Lesley made everyone happy with wondrous pasta. Final dinner was centered on Tex/Mex delights from EL Parasol in Pojoaque. (HG relished authentic Mexican menudo). This was Massimo’s birthday and he blew out all the candles on a very tasty Chantilly Cream Cake from Whole Foods (Prosecco was the accompaniment). A great finale to a memorable family gathering.

Jeremy Freeman (identified in this blog as “SJ”) is HG’s son. No man could ever have a better son. HG loves him very much. While HG had cancer and urinary tract surgery, Jeremy was a blessing; during a medical emergency, Jeremy rescued HG from much pain (if you need an auto driver to drive you to a hospital emergency center in record time, Jeremy is your man). He is multi-talented: writer (best food writer ever); photographer, urban poet, Jamaican music (reggae) expert and disc jockey. Jeremy lives with wife, Maiko; son, handsome Haru; daughter, adorable Teru, in Tokyo. HG/BSK keep in touch via FaceTime. Hopefully, a joyous reunion may be managed. Jeremy and Maiko own and operate an “izakaya” restaurant, Freeman Shokudo. It’s a Brooklyn-style barbecue restaurant. It has drawn rave reviews from the media. Yes, there are ribs, pulled pork, chicken, etc. But, the surprise is world class pastrami (tasters say it’s even better than pastrami icons New York’s Katz’s and Los Angeles’ Langer’s). Freeman Shokudo opened in the midst of a pandemic (and a curtailed Olympics wasn’t helpful). However, Freeman Shokudo (Jeremy and his family) have all survived. Today is Jeremy’s birthday. Have many, many, many more. HG (age 92) is a very lucky man to have lived so long and enjoyed the wonders of having Jeremy as a son.

BSK was inspired by HG’s recent post about one of HG/BSK’s favorite New York restaurants, El Faro (sadly, the restaurant has been long closed but the name persists in an eatery that serves Mexican, not Spanish, food). So, a few nights ago BSK, a confirmed garlic lover, made one of El Faro’s signature dishes: Mariscada. This is a pot of mixed seafood in a rich green sauce of parsley, onions and garlic. BSK amped up the garlic (hooray!!) and gave the sauce a splash of sherry vinegar instead of the traditional canned asparagus juice. Of course, BSK tweaked it with a melange of spices. Sea scallops and shrimp simmered in the sauce. There was fluffy rice to add to the bowls. Sublime. The next night, BSK scored some flounder filets (much thicker than the filets HG ate in the northeast). BSK fried them in an egg and panko batter, flanked them with small boiled potatoes and very good (though out of season) asparagus. Hey, HG/BSK manage to delight in seafood in landlocked New Mexico.

In 2004, 13-year-old Arvind Mahankali of New York City won the Scripps National Spelling Bee by spelling correctly the word “knaidel”, described as a type of dumpling. It is a Yiddish word often used to describe matzo balls. Not by HG’s late beloved Mom, Ida Kopkind Freeman. Her super light matzo balls which enriched her chicken soup were called, with Yiddish accent, “mahtzeh buhls”. A “knaidel” was a very dense, fairly large dumpling composed of matzo meal, grated onion, chicken fat, salt and pepper. It was boiled and served with pot roast or other dishes with abundant gravy. It soaked up sauces like a sponge. “Knaidel” is the spelling in the Merriam’s-Webster dictionary, the source of correctness for the spelling contest. Mahankali’s victory caused controversy among Yiddishists. YIVO, the ultimate authority on all things Yiddish, said the correct spelling (as translated into phonetic English from Yiddish) is “kneydl.” Others insist on “knadle.” HG scoffs. No matter how you spell knaidels they remain a happy culinary memory.

Yes, HG is very fond of alcohol in all of its delightful forms. Alas, at age 92, HG has to limit consumption (advised by BSK) since HG’s agility is impaired and overindulgence could lead to a bone breaking tumble. So, HG drinks white wine with a splash of Aperol before dinner; a glass or red with dinner; snifter of bourbon after dinner. Not teetotal, but close. HG becomes wistful (in a happy way) when HG remembers New York boozy meals of yesteryear. Russian Tea Room (when it was owned by the late Sidney Kaye): Blinii with red salmon caviar, melted butter, sour cream. Icy vodka of course. Fornos, long closed Spanish restaurant in Manhattan’s W. 50’s: Margaritas drunk throughout a meal of pork in garlic sauce with Spanish fried potatoes. Two banana daiquiris for dessert. Never left the restaurant sober. Old Seidelberg Bar on Third Avenue: Mugs of tap beer with Liederkranz and onion on German rye bread. Blue Ribbon in W. 40’s (German food): Steak tartare with vodka and beer chasers. Sardi’s: Perfect dry martinis and robust red wine with rare lamb chops and roast kidneys. Christ Cella (the ultimate New York steak house): Scotch sours (fresh lemon juice) before monumental steak. Gage & Tollner (Brooklyn landmark now reopened): Chablis with spring season shad and shad roe. There were many, many more lush pairings of alcohol and food enjoyed (and, not in moderation) by HG but the old guy is wary of being intoxicated by boozy memories.